It was times like this when Emmett felt like an asshole. Crying on a park bench like—

Like Elle. It reminded him of the time where she had been weeping about how cruel Vivienne and Warner could be (wearing a Playboy bunny costume, he recalled), and that was when he told her to suck it up and buckle down, because law school was going to be a wild ride. He half expected Elle, a vision in pink, to come up next to him and give him a similar speech.

This was honestly the first time he had left her side for something aside from class or work or sleeping or eating in a month. Right before the final before Christmas break began, Elle began to feel ill. She shrugged it off as a headcold, though the chesty coughs that racked her body had made Emmett flinch when they studied together. She had collapsed when she and Emmett had gone for their ritual pre-test, good-luck coffee date the morning of the test, but would not allow her friend to take her to the emergency room.

Emmett had waited outside her test room, tapping his foot nervously, determined to take her to the doctor—even if he had to drag her—as soon as she came through those doors. Finally, the test ended and the class came out. She came last, her face pale beneath the makeup, and her pace slow and shaky.

"Elle!" Emmett yelped as he leapt to his feet. "Are you okay?!"

"Emmett," her smile still managed to thrill the enamored man. "I'm okay, really—" Her reassuring words were cut off as she broke into a coughing fit, this one sending her already-shaking knees folding like paper.

Emmett caught her, half-carrying her to his car, shocked at how cold she felt in his arms.

She coughed and coughed for the whole ride, slumping slightly.

"Hey, little Miss Woods comma Elle," Emmett gave her shuddering back a reassuring pat, even though his own hands trembled slightly. "Where's your perfect posture?"

She didn't seem to hear him through her violent coughs

The beautiful blonde's coughing had somewhat subsided by the time they reached the hospital, and her ditzy demeanor had returned somewhat.

"Emmett, I did so great on that test!" Elle told him, though her eyes were lidded and her voice was raspy.

"Of course you did," Emmett paused in his concern to give her a warm smile. "Now come on, let's get you into the building."

"Why are we at a hospital?" Elle asked. "I just have—"

"A headcold? Bullshit. Now get out of the car," Emmett was not a particularly harsh man, nor was he particularly stern, but the authority in his voice and the ice-cold look he pierced her with was enough to silence the suddenly-taken-aback Elle.

They entered the building in silence, Elle wobbling slightly on her stilettos, somewhat fuming at Emmett…

They sat in the waiting room, anger spiking silently between them both. Finally, a nurse came out and called, "Woods?"

Emmett leapt up as Elle struggled to her feet. The nurse gave him a strange look.

"You can't come back with me, silly," Elle gave him a small smile.

"O-of course," Emmett sat down again, flustered. "But," he said to the nurse, "make sure she tells you about the fainting. And the coughing."

"Emmett, I'm—"

"Make sure."

Emmett sighed nervously as Elle disappeared into the back with the nurse. He had been trained as a high-profile lawyer to Expect the Worse. Expect that your client is guilty of everything. Expect that the witness won't go for the bait in cross-examination. Expect that you'll get fired if you lose this one. Expect, expect, expect.

Expect the worse. Emmett had been expecting the worst with Elle from day one. When he'd met the silly blonde, he had expected her to flunk. When he'd offered to tutor her, he had expected her not to take it seriously. When he'd fallen in love with her, he had expected her not to reciprocate. One out of three, Forrest, Emmett thought moodily, playing with his hands.

And once again, he was expecting the worse. Something terminal. Cancer, maybe? He shook his head. No, that was stupid. Elle ate well. She didn't smoke. She exercised. Oh, but she spent so much time at that nail salon! Who knew what she inhaled there!

Emmett jumped as the door opened again. He glanced at his watch; half an hour had passed… oh, what did this all mean?

Elle stood there in hospital socks (pink ones, of course), in a very short hospital gown, her blond hair pulled up into a ponytail.

"Elle!" Emmett yelped. A hospital gown was not a good sign. "What's wrong? What did the doctor say?"

"He said, like, double pneumonia?" Elle's adorable valley-girl way of speech got about a thousand times more noticeable when she was scared or nervous. "And I have to get a chest X-ray?"

Emmett felt his eye twitch, suddenly very much hating this doctor, though, if he were in the position to examine Elle's chest, he probably couldn't have resisted the temptation either.

"Oh, man," Emmett tried to sound a little sympathetic, even though he was incredibly relieved. "That—"

"Would you sit with me while they're taking the x-ray?" she asked, her big blue eyes finding his sharp green ones in concern and…was that fear?

"Of course," Emmett said, trying to sound cool and relaxed and as though he had not been anticipating the worst case scenario for the last half-hour.

"Thank you so much, Emmett," Elle let out a sigh of relief, but that made her cough even more.

She turned on her-pink clad feet, her ponytail bouncing.

Emmett cocked an eyebrow at the ribbon of warm, creamy skin that her blue hospital gown left exposed. No. No. He would not leer. He did not want to leer. His eyes locked straight ahead, but his will cratered quickly as they swiftly followed the stretch of flesh, starting with the hairs at the nape of her neck and following over the even bumps of her spine—that skin looked smooth, did it feel that way?—until his vision tailed to

Whoah, fancy looking underwear. Red and lacy. Emmett choked quietly on his own spit. Hot.

His eyes leapt up to the upper part of her back, spotting the bit of skin that should have probably had a brassiere… Did they make her take it off for the examination? Or did she just not wear one? Maybe because it was a test day? Or did she just not wear one around him? (He very much hoped so on that last one).

Emmett screamed an undignified, girly, squeal as he walked into a wall, completely distracted by the vision before him.

"Emmett!" Elle turned to face him, her face struck with even more worry. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Emmett reassured her, even though his forehead was absolutely throbbing.

They finally entered the x-ray room, which was filled with very intimidating equipment. The doctor stood there, and all desire of Emmett's to knock the person's teeth into their perverted face drained, as the doctor was, herself, a very pretty black woman with a rather knowing stare.

Elle hated x-rays! She'd had to get one once when she had hurt her wrist riding a bicycle when she was ten. She couldn't really remember the incident, but she could remember feeling terrified and sick and in pain for the whole thing, so much so that her mother took her out for ice cream immediately afterwards. And it wasn't even low-fat! That's how bad it was for Elle.

She really appreciated Emmett's presence, though his concern was a bit overbearing, she was grateful for his standing there, with worry in his wide, green eyes as he looked down at her.

"Okay, Miss Woods," the doctor helped her onto the table. "Just lie still."

"Can I talk?" Elle asked nervously. She chattered to no end when she was nervous.

"No, that will move your lungs too much for a good picture," the doctor told her kindly.

Emmett pulled up the chair next to Elle's head and immediately began to fill the conversation with his own chatter, more to comfort Elle than anything else.

"Well, I know you weren't planning on going home for Christmas, but on the week of Christmas, I usually visit my mom in Jersey… So, if you feel up to it, I was thinking you could come with me," Emmett said nervously. He honestly had not planned on introducing Elle to his mother until he had worked up the nerve to confess his love to the pretty blonde. His mother had a lot of embarrassing stories that he could barely stand to have his girlfriend feel, let alone his crush.

"She makes really good cookies," Emmett finished that thought lamely. "But I'm not going to let you slack over the holidays," he told her with a small smirk. "Callahan always does nasty pop quizzes when students get back from vacation. If you want the internship in the summer, you're going to have to bust your—" the elegant doctor gave him a reprimanding look from behind her little control panel "—butt, seriously, Elle."

The blonde nodded feverishly, looking highly uncomfortable.

"We're almost done, sweetie," the doctor told her patient in a soothing voice. To Emmett she said, "Stretch, go get your girlfriend's clothes."

"She's not my—"

"Out."

-

I love these guys. I am PMSing like nothing else. I bought the soundtrack. This is the result. R/R